Winter Is Coming
by KyiaMcGill0507
Summary: "Just because the price of papers had gone back to normal didn't mean that things had gotten any better. Sickness still plagued the Lodgings, food was still scarce- And winters were still cruel." RATED T FOR SICKNESS, DEATH, AND CURSING
1. -1-

**Post Strike**

**4**** Months Later**

Just because the price of papers had gone back to normal didn't mean that things had gotten any better. Sickness still plagued the Lodgings, food was still scarce-

And winters were still cruel.

It was growing colder outside; the late November air left many of The World newsboys with chattering teeth and blue lips. And normally, the infamous Jack Kelly was around to help the boys prepare for the bitter months to come.

But this so called Jack Kelly was nowhere in sight. He'd taken up a new job, working for the enemy himself- Mr. Joseph Pulitzer. A politcal cartoonist for The World, Jack spent his hours doing what he lived most, and spending time with the girl he loved most- Katherine Ethel Pulitzer.

And yet, while this boy worked in the luxuries of heat and content, he'd forgotten one thing; his friends.

The newsboys of Manhattan, New York were not happy. They turned to David for assistance; he and his little brother Les, not yet ten, only sold on weekends and evenings; attending school in the mornings. and yet they could only do so much for the boys.

As of that moment, David Jacobs himself was dragging along his indignant brother with one arm, a pile of old coats hanging on his other. He ignored his brother's protests, though he was growing aggravated with Les's attempts with slowing him down.

"I thought you said we were going home! It's too cold outside..."

For the third time, Les dug his heels into the pavement and sent David reeling backwards. Turning on his brother with a huff, David released his brother's wrist to fix the dislodged coats on his arm.

I have to help the Newsies, Les. It's supposed to snow tonight and they don't have any coats. If you want to go home, then you go home. I'll be right behind you after I help out the others."

Les stuck out his tongue at his brother, but turned tail to run off toward their tenement. David watched the boy as he disappeared, a small sigh parting his lips. Les didn't understand.

Upon reaching the Lodgings, he opened the door cautiously- it was just about time for the boys to settle down for the evening- only to hear the same thing he always heard.

Many sniffling heads perked up at the sound of the door opening- the boys would never admit it, but they were partially hoping it would be Jack- maybe he'd finally come back for them, maybe he'd finally come to his senses...

Several of the heads that had once perked up dropped at the sight of David. Someone directly to the boy's left sneezed, and David's pursed lips twisted into a frown.

"I brought you all some old coats... I really don't think you all should go put to sell tomorrow, but..."

He glanced down at the coats, listening to the silence before him. There was a sniffle here and there, but nobody seemed to stir. They knew what David was trying to say.

To distract himself, he turned swiftly to the boy on his left who'd sneezed- Elmer. The boy's nose was red, and his teeth still chattered. He lifted his wide brown eyes to David's, though the rest of his body didn't move.

David fumbled with the coats, trying ti find one that looked about Elmer's size. They ranged from small coats that David had outgrown, to oversized coats his father didn't care for anymore.

He pulled a thicker coat out- copper in color- and after a moment of thinking, decided it was just about the best he could do and draped it over Elmer's shoulders.

The boys were only given two blankets in the winter months- if you coucould even call them blankets. They were tattered and thin, worn from years of use. David made a mental note to bring more in, or have his Aunt Diana make some.

Elmer shied away from the coat at first; the bitter walk from the tenement to the Lodgings had chilled them- though David had clutched them to his chest the entire walk- and a small whimper left his lips that sent David's heart to his stomach.

He reached out to pull a strand of hair from the boy's forehead, his frown softening a bit.

"It'll warm up, Elm."

The boy only nodded, and as David pulled his hand back, Elmer seemed to burrow his head into the coat with another shudder.

David had decided that whoever made the next sound was the person he'd attend to next. He couldn't go down the row- he'd run out of coats. What if he didn't give one to someone who really needed it?

The next noise made wasn't a sniffle or a cough- it was a tiny voice, and David turned to see little Candle, only eight years old, a burrito in his threaded blanket as he looked up at the taller boy through his lashes.

"When will Jack come back, Davey?"

David fell silent, his heart twisting at the boy's words. He bent down to the boy's level, bringing up a hand to run through Candle's hair.

He didn't have the answer to his question; there was no guarantee that Jack would come back at all. Perhaps the luxuries of Pulitzer's damned palace had turned him soft.

"Hopefully soon, Candle. Maybe I'll try to find him one of these days. Get him to come back."

"As if."

David lifted his head to see Specs on the top bunk, his glasses on the . His eyebrows furrowed as he stood. Specs would only scare the boys; make things worse.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Jack ain't never comin' back. Not after gettin' a better job and forgettin' 'bout us. We'se is all on our own. And we'se is just gonna have to bear through it."

David opened his mouth to shoot a reply, to reassure the boys, but just as quickly as he'd parted his lips to speak, he shut them again. Specs was right. It'd been three months since the strike- and Jack hadn't shown up once since he disappeared.

Specs glanced down at the book he was reading, a grim line tugging at his lips. He knew he was right.

"I'se hate to sound like the bad guy here, but... you'se all know that I'se is right."

Murmurs echoed throughout the room, and David turned with the echoes. The boys needed Jack. They couldn't do this without him.

"Hey!"

He raised his voice above theirs, and many silenced- David hadn't lifted his voice since the rally.

"What if I... what if I were to go find Jack? And get him to come back?"


	2. -2-

_"Hey!"_

_He raised his voice above theirs, and many silenced- David hadn't lifted his voice since the rally._

_"What if I... what if I were to go find Jack? And get him to come back?"_

There were murmurs from the surrounding boys at that- nobody had ever thought to go get Jack. Nobody wanted to- they were scared to see him, look at him for who he'd become. They wanted old Jack back, not the backstabber they thought he was.

Specs spoke up from the top bunk again, ever the smart-mouth, but even his voice held some uncertainty.

"That wouldn't change anything..."

David thought about this for a moment, chewing on his lip. Was Specs right? Would David's appearance somehow convince Jack to come back to the boys?

he hoped it would. After all they'd been through, he hoped more than anything that he hadn't changed. His stomach lurched at the thought.

Little Candle had wrapped himself around David's legs with a sniffle, the blanket still curled around him in his fists and pressing his face into David's thigh; he was far too small for an eight year old, far too small.

On instinct, David's hand went through the boy's hair- he was like a tinier version of Les, and that pulled at David's heartstrings even more. Before he could even think straight, he'd picked up the little boy, holding him tight to his chest. He could hold him for a little bit, long enough to comfort the boy.

The boy continued to sniffle, and for a moment, David didn't know whether he was crying or if his nose were running.

After a moment, the boy squirmed from his arms and retreated to a bunk he shared with another little boy, Jumper.

It was almost infuriating that the kids had to share bunks, soley because they no longer had any more free bunks to give.

A fit of coughing set him back on his tracks, and he turned around with a newfound determination and made his way over to the coughing boy- Racetrack.

Perhaps it was because he was still puffing on his worn dowm cigars- he'd taken up smoking more frequently, now that Jack wasn't there to stop him.

And when David started towards him, he backed up, shaking his head.

"You'se don't gotta give one to me. Save it for tha' sicker ones."

This caused David to frown, and he pulled out a taller coat, an ancient one from his dad, pulling it out to hand to the blonde-haired boy.

"Take it. You're just as sick as the rest of them."

For a moment, Race looked as if he were about to refuse, but David's gaze was enough to scare him into reaching out and take it. If looks could kill, David would have sent Race to hell.

David turned around promptly, and though his voice was gentle, it was firm; something the boys were all used to when he put on his 'older brother' tone.

"After I finish giving out these coats, I'm going to find Jack. And I'll be damned if I don't bring him back with me."


End file.
